


Showtime

by wartransmission



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I really have no idea, Multi, Steampunk AU, if you squint really hard you might actually see some Stridercest, this plot makes no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider is nothing more than a clockmaker in the country of Skaia. He is a simple man who lives by the unwritten law, who smiles for the customers when need be, who lives with the soothing tick-tocks of his timepieces as he sleeps during nightfall.</p><p>Dave is nothing less than normal.</p><p>[A.K.A. that Steampunk AU where John is a Space Pirate and they're rebelling from the State.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showtime

 

Dave Strider is nothing more than a clockmaker in the country of Skaia. He is a simple man who lives by the unwritten law, who smiles for the customers when need be, who lives with the soothing tick-tocks of his timepieces as he sleeps during nightfall.

Dave has rituals. He wakes with a less than cheery disposition, sleeps with the relief of a man who has seen no rest, treats bathing and showering as mere human requirements, eats because he needs to, and watches his shop with all the interest of a man who has yet to see a clock in his life. (And isn't that a funny thing, when he's already made so many clocks with his own hands?)

Dave is an average man. It may be that he prefers the nectar of apples, and it may be that he dislikes going outside of his own home- but those are tiny flaws.

Dave is nothing less than normal.

 

\-----

 

They are the same words, over and over again, ending up meaningless to Dave for each time he hears them from the State president's mouth.

_"Skaia is a peaceful country, the promised land of all. Its peace is maintained by the simplicity it values- yet there are rebels who seek to destroy! They make these steam-powered machines, things that will eventually destroy man when its ideals are spread throughout the land. Our progress is being hindered by these fools, my people, and you must take action against them! Let not their principles take you in. Stay strong, steadfast against their wiles! You are strong, men and women, and you will not succumb to their magicks! Peace will not be born from weaponry, not from the technology these rebels are crafting."_

It never means anything. Not to a man who's made so much already.

 

\-------

 

"Ohh, this grandfather clock looks dashing! The quality of the metalwork- I could even say it's comparable to your own brilliant looks, Strider."

"Thank you- wait- shit, why do you keep doing this to me," Dave grumbles, running a hand through his hair as Terezi cackles at his moment of idiocy. "I can't tell if I should feel horrid for forgetting your condition, or if I should be pissed because you are clearly above feeling bad for yourself."

"Come off it, Dave, I was only teasing," Terezi drawls, turning her head away from the grandfather clock she had been 'looking' at in favor of turning to his voice. "Besides, it's not my fault that you keep forgetting that I'm blind."

"True," Dave concedes half-heartedly, a weary smile tugging at the corner of his lips as she uses her cane to search her way towards him. "But you're magnificent at making me forget it too, you understand."

"I wouldn't be amazing if I didn't know how to trick you into things," she agrees, before she reaches the counter and props both of her elbows up on it. "There isn't much to share from the outside, Strider," she says as she folds her arms on the wooden counter, head cocked to the side as he regards her with a nod. "People are scared. They don't know who to trust. The State says that steam-powered machines are dangerous, but they've been told by the others that it could lead to a better economy. Development, power, the whole shebang."

"Understandable," he says, reaching up to raise his spectacles for a moment to rub at his eyes. He is far too tired for this, but he needs information. "The guards have yet to carry out any raids for metal resources, yeah?"

"For now, yes," she nods, and he sighs. He is safe for the moment.

"Thanks," he says with a tiny smile, and she laughs.

The relief is temporary, but it is enough for now.

 

\------

_"It has been noted by various researchers that metal resources are depleting in certain areas of Skaia. The aforementioned areas have also been noted as being active with rebels seeking to legalize the production of steam-powered machinery. The State is contemplating the implementation of a law restricting the usage  and selling of metal, saying that the act will aid in the stringent execution of peaceful relations with other countries. More information on this will be disclosed at a later date."_

 

\-----

 

The people are haggling for lower prices on the metal when he steps into the town square. His eyes are still hidden by tinted spectacles, earning him a few looks as he gives each vendor a glance. The prices get higher as he goes further and to the center of the crowd of people, the excitement to be gained from bargaining with expert auctioneers easily felt in the air as yells for lower prices pierced through the town's usual silence.

He does not need to pay for what he is collecting in his short trip to the recently busy town square.

If his customers notice that his pricier clocks are gone, they say nothing. He does not say anything of it either, merely accepting the pitying looks with a nod and a weary smile each time.

He has hidden himself well.

 

\----

 

"How is work in the shop?" Rose asks, sitting daintily across her coffee table from him.

"Brilliant as ever," Dave says, his usual polite smile gone as he faces his twin. Her smile is equal parts amused and concerned, and he is reminded of how different they are from each other. He is reminded that his elder brother talks to her more, that they understand each other better, and that he can never compare to this relationship they have. (For a moment, he thinks that he might hate her. Then again, perhaps he doesn't, not really.)

"You seem tired, Dave," Rose says, her gaze all-knowing as it always is when he sighs. "Have you been getting enough rest? Surely, work in a clock shop isn't all that harrying."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," he drawls, earning a raised eyebrow from his twin. "People just flock there- although it's questionable what their reasons are, when they don't buy much. I have an inkling that it's because of a certain shopkeeper."

"But of course," she hums, and he smiles for a moment. "Rather impossible to ignore the handsome man constantly taking watching over the shop."

"Damn right," he says, and she laughs lightly.

The ease of their conversation subsides eventually, making room for something more solemn. "They've cut the connections to certain sources of metal in my area," she says, eyes fluttering closed as she takes a sip from her cup of coffee. Her eyes open again and look into his, and it should be baffling how she manages to meet his gaze when his tinted glasses are in the way. But it's not, because it's her. "I've already informed Dirk of my situation."

"Of course you have," he replies, voice soft and roughened with disdain as he turns his gaze down to his glass of apple juice. He can feel the heated gaze on him, but he doesn't look up. He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him like this. "I've informed one of Jake's crew regarding my area."

"You are referring to our elder sister, aren't you," she says instead of asking, and he scowls. "Because we both know that Jane is unavailable in her position."

"And Bro is all yours to claim, isn't he?" He sneers, to which she narrows her eyes at him. "I know."

"I don't see the need for such an attitude, Dave-"

"Don't act righteous with me! You don't understand anything," he snarls, earning a glare from Rose as he shakes the table from the sudden movement of his arms as he stands. "Just because you've studied and done your research on people doesn't mean you understand everyone. It doesn't mean that you understand me."

"Your possessive nature towards Dirk is highly unbecoming, I hope you understand," she says, and he freezes in place. "I'm not turning you away for feeling so, but Dave, you must see that it's unhealthy for you. You put him on such a high pedestal that you forget he's human."

There is silence as Dave slowly takes his seat across from her.

"I don't forget," he says once the silence has passed. "I never forget, Rose. He's an asshole as much as he's," he trails off, leaving the compliment unsaid as he turns his gaze away. "But he's my brother."

"And you love him, I know," she says, trying to soothe him. He only smiles wryly.

 

\----

 

"Put your hands up!"

Dave is too fucking exhausted for this. Really, he is.

But he does as ordered, putting on the best distressed face that he can muster as he raises both of his hands. "Please sir, just take the money, don't hurt me," he pleads to the stranger, inwardly seething at the pathetic state he is forced to endure for his own safety.

"Oh, I don't think I'm gonna go with just your money, mister," the brunet says, a grin on his face as he swings his hammer carelessly (it's great in length, probably three-fourths of the stranger's height), missing one of Dave's clocks by an inch. "I'm here to check on your metalwork. I hear you've got some good stuff, and I wanted to take some things for myself."

_Hell no._

"Yes, yes, of course," he nods shakily, backing away from the counter slowly as the brunet steps closer. "J-just don't kill me," he says, pride crowing at the impressively convincing stutter he'd just pulled off.

"Yeah, yeah, the begging doesn't suit you," the brunet drawls, before twirling his hammer around with one hand. "I," he begins, looking around and away from his own hand- that is, until his hold on the hammer slips.

Dave can barely hear anything over the crash of the thief's hammer hitting his grandfather clock, the one he'd made with great effort, its glass shattering into tiny shards as the hammer makes its mark on the wood.

"Whoops," he whistles, "heh, didn't mean to do that- _holy shit_!"

Dave's temper is rather short when it comes to people breaking one of his things.

This is proven true by the silver sword glinting under the light as it is pressed against the brunet's neck; Dave's other hand busy with holding the thief's wrists. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me who you are and what you’re trying to accomplish here, _thief_."

"Well, they call me John Egbert, Captain of the ship Zillyhoo," the brunet says with a grin still.

There is silence, until,

"A fucking _Space Pirate_?" Dave asks in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed as he releases his hold on the brunet's arms and takes away his sword from his neck. "What are you doing in these parts? The metal ware around here is rare enough as it is," Dave grumbles, eyeing his broken clock with something like regret.

"Well, I was told there were some rare merchants I could loot from, but apparently I was wrong. Who would you be, either way? It's interesting how you know of Space Pirates when there's so much of us being hidden by the State. I can't tell if it's a relief or not, really," John says, rubbing a hand around his neck as he turns to face Dave fully.

"I'm no one important," he says automatically while returning the sword to its sheath on his hip, making his way past John as he heads to his counter. "And I'd advise you to leave now, as it would be unwise to remain in a place where there are guards constantly patrolling the area."

"But you're helping me out," John insists, picking up his hammer he heads over to the counter with Dave. "I'd like to know who it is who's giving me such advice, so I can properly thank you for it. You didn't kill me either when you found out what I was, even though you're clearly capable of it." He grins as he watches Dave reaching under his counter for a dustpan and a broom.

"I'm no one to you," Dave says, gaze turned away from the brunet as he returns to the clock and sweeps up the mess of broken glass from the floor, before throwing it into the bin. He puts the broom and dustpan back from where he'd gotten it, thoroughly ignoring the curious look the brunet sends his way as he goes back to assess the damage to his grandfather clock.

"Oh, come now. A comrade, perhaps? A fellow rebel? You've got to give a man a clue, at the very least," John needles while coming closer to him.

Dave makes to say something, until he notices the shadow of people about to pass by his shop. He sweeps John off his feet with a swift swipe of his leg, the brunet going down with a grunt until he's hidden by the towering clocks just by the window to his shop. He cocks his head to the guards once they pass, earning looks of disdain from them as they go by without a second glance.

"Harsh of you, don't you think?" John grumbles as he sits up, shooting a glare in Dave's way. The blond smirks. "You could've given me a warning instead."

"But it's so much more fun this way," Dave says, unaware of the strange glint in John's blue eyes when he tells him so. "You should go."

"You won't even give me a chance to offer you a place in my crew?" John asks, standing up on his own as he looks at Dave with something like awe. "You don't have to be all cooped up in this small shack."

Dave's lips curl up at that, the smile not reaching his eyes as he looks back at John. "This 'shack' is all I have, and I'm not leaving it. Not for you, nor for freedom."

 _There is no true freedom, either way,_ Dave doesn't say, turning his gaze away from John as he gets back to work. He hears the light tinkling of bells as the door opens, the breeze sweeping the hair away from his forehead as he turns his eyes to the space that the brunet had occupied before he left.

(For some reason, he feels that this won't be the last time they'll meet.)

 

########

 

John Egbert hasn't been new to the whole Space Pirate business in a long time.

He was taken in by his cousin when he was eleven, ever since the moment he'd lost his father to the guards of Skaia. They had labeled him an insurgent, a rebel leader, and they'd taken him. There were no news regarding him, no proud revelations. There was only silence, as though his father had never existed, and neither had he.

He was fine with that.

Jake, his cousin, had taught him the ways of a Space Pirate. He learned not to trust needlessly, learned that the State wasn't as great as they made it to be, wasn't as peaceful as everyone said that it was. The State was a monster as much as Skaia's people were, and John wasn't an exception. He knows as much when he kills a man, he understands that he's not as innocent as anyone else is.

But he's fighting for what's right, and that's what matters. He's fighting for the justice that his father never had, for the life and family that he'd lost in that same day.

He doesn't care what people see him as. He doesn't care if he's called a criminal, a thief, a murderer. Because in the end, he's only fighting for the family he has left.

That's the only thing that counts.

 

\-----

 

_"The insurgency has led to shortages in metal ware..."_

_"The State is falling into ruins, people! Steam-powered machinery is the answer..."_

_"There is fear around us, my friends, and such a state is all because we are slow with the times. The world is anew, and we are changing..."_

_"_ Turn off the radio, _"_ John snaps, earning an ire-filled glare from his head informant. The frown on his face fades eventually, a sigh falling from his lips as he rubs at his temple with resignation. "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"You're not resting," the other man says in a growl, slapping his stack of papers down on his table as he regards John with a glare. "I've told you time and time again, Egbert, we have no use of a captain who can't hold himself up."

"I know that," he says, frowning as he takes his elbow off the table, sitting up straight. "I just- it's not like I can hand off the position to someone else, right? They chose me for this, and, much as I'm not the type to be a leader..."

"Fucking hell, have you not gotten it in your head yet that there's a reason they chose you?"

He turns his gaze up to Karkat, wincing once he notices the eye bags the brunet has from working nights. "I was the only one they could choose."

"They chose you because you knew what you wanted. They knew that you could lead them, John," Karkat says, the glare softening into a look hinting at concern and annoyance. "Pull your head out of your ass and stop with the modest act. You know well enough that they need a leader who won't confuse his goals."

"I'm aware that I'm very focused on rebelling against the State, Kar," he says, laughing drily as he shakes his head.

"Good, because I don't think my fist is strong enough to get through to your stone-hard skull, you fucking dumbass."

John laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment."

 

\----

 

John never really did make any promises regarding leaving the blond alone.

He's also very aware that a new label would be appropriate for him at the moment. Another thing to add to his ever lengthening list of names, really. Although, he'd prefer being called a spy than a stalker. The latter sounds horribly unprofessional, and what is an Egbert if not professional?

But really. How can he leave the man alone after a show of strength like that? His prowess with metalwork is amazing in its own right as well, and he'd always needed mechanic. (God knows he didn't always have the money to pay Zahhak for repairs.)

So he...pays attention.

Weeks of watching the blond gets him the blond's name (Dave, although John is curious as to the lack of a last name), and nothing else.

It only stirs the curiosity in John even more, yet it doesn't help in figuring anything out. Dave's name is all John knows, as well as the fact that he knows his way around a sword and metalwork.

It takes another week before anything happens.

There are two guards who introduce themselves to Dave and enter his shop, all with John watching from the corner of the street. The glint of something silver and gun-shaped sends John running before he can even think, and he's crashing into the shop with his hammer at the ready. Dave has already taken out the first guard when he gets there, his face telling with surprise when he sees the second guard falling to the ground, his head bloody and dented from John's weapon.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dave asks, hastily swiping his sword on the first guard's sleeve before letting him fall to the ground. "I told you to _leave,_ why the hell-"

"You needed help," John shoots back, earning himself a glare from Dave. "You're already compromised with these two, Dave-" the blond's eyebrows rise in surprised bemusement at the name, "and you've got nowhere to go. I can help you escape."

Dave is ready to respond- certainly with something snarky, John is sure- but he is cut off once yells erupt from the streets, the marching of men resounding even within Dave's shop. "Shit, _shit,_ " he says in a panic, sheathing his sword once more as looks around. "I can't fucking _believe this._ "

"Just come with me. Trust me, I can help you out," John insists, reaching a hand out to hold Dave's arm- before he is stopped once Dave swats his hand away with a look of despair and distrust. "Dave, _please._ "

"God, this is so messed up," Dave murmurs, and John is left with a scary feeling of desperation in his stomach when Dave turns away from him and heads to his counter. No way was he letting Dave stay, not with the guards coming. John can't leave him, not when he can be saved still.

It's understandable then, that John is surprised when Dave steps away from his counter and catches hold of his hand, dragging him out through the backdoor of his shop. "Dave, what-"

"Don't talk," Dave says, and John shuts his mouth instantly. The sounds of thunderous footsteps are getting nearer, and John is hit with the urge to head to his ship, his haven. But Dave runs in the other direction and he follows, his hand squeezing the blond's as he waits for something to happen.

It doesn't take too long before the sound of an explosion reaches his ears.

He looks at Dave with surprise once the worst of it is over, although Dave doesn't look back.

There are no words for a while.

(There are no words still when they've stopped running, ending up god knows where as Dave takes off his spectacles for a moment. His eyes are a brilliant shade of red yet John doesn't say anything, only watching as Dave rubs at his eyes before settling his specs back down on the bridge of his nose.

If his grip on John's hand tightens, or if John notices how Dave doesn't let go, they don't say anything about it either.)

 

\-----

 

John should have remembered to warn his crew that he had been planning to add a mechanic to their list of people. (It's this forgetfulness that costs them most of everything.)

In the end, it's not that surprising when everyone is at arms when Dave steps onto the deck. It's also not that surprising that Dave is prepared with his sword in hand.

"Okay, _whoa,_ everyone calm the fuck down," John calls out, earning multiple looks of confusion from his crew once he steps in front of Dave. "Put your weapons down, and we'll have a nice talk, alright?"

"You'll forgive us the transgression of preparing ourselves when you remember that time that you'd been brought here as a hostage, John," a brunette says, waiting for the whirring sounds of her chainsaw to die down, before settling it down beside her.

John smiles with all his sheepish charm at that. "Well, yes, alright. You have a point, Kanaya. But Dave here is a friend, okay?" He gestures to Dave with a wave of his hand, which earns him a look absent of amusement. John just smiles, before turning to face his crew again. "He's with us in this. Some guards invaded his shop, he's got nowhere else to go- so I thought of bringing him here. He's good with metalwork to boot!"

"You really shouldn't go on and assume things from looking at my clocks, Egbert," Dave says from behind him, sheathing his sword as he steps forward. "Although it's true that I do have some skills with metal ware."

"Would you be as good as Equius, then?" A shorter brunette says, stepping out from the shade of their sail as she regards Dave with curious look. The blond eyes her with equal amounts of apprehension once he notices her metal claws.

"Equius Zahhak is the man we go to when we're in need of repairs for the ship," John informs Dave, earning a raised brow from the blond.

"Zahhak? That creep who has a habit of sweating too much?"

The brunette laughs, and so does John. "You've got it in one, mister," she tells him as she steps closer, before removing one of her claw-shaped brass knuckles and holding out a hand to him. "My name is Nepeta, by the way!" She smiles, and while Dave is hesitant, he shakes her hand in return.

"Name's Dave. I run one of the clock shops in Skaia," he says, giving her a small smile as she releases his hand. "Didn't think you'd be the sort to make friends with Zahhak," he says both to John and the crew as he steps back, stopping once he's beside John. "He's great with metal ware, but a weirdo."

"Oh, don't we know it," John says, earning a grin from Nepeta and smiles from the others. "But before we forget: introductions, everyone," John whistles, to which all of the crew stow away their weapons as well as their apprehensive expressions. Dave looks mildly bemused by it, but doesn't say anything.

"My name is Kanaya," the brunette with the chainsaw says, smiling lightly as she nods to Dave.

"Nepeta," Nepeta chirps with a grin.

"You can call me Aradia," says a brunette while tucking her whip back into her belt. She smiles when Dave glances a bit too long at the whip, to which he smirks back.

"I'm Tavros," says the brunet with prosthetic legs, voice soft, his lance upright by his side as he nods to Dave hesitantly.

"And that's my crew," John finishes with a grin, hand settling on the end of his hammer as it stands beside him. "Save for Gamzee, who's most probably asleep in the lower deck."

"He found another stash from the other ship we ransacked the other day," Aradia tells John, to which he nods with a sigh. "It's less likely that he's asleep, more likely that he's seeing things in his chamber at the moment."

"I think I'm starting to like your crew already," Dave says as he borrows one of Nepeta's brass knuckles, fingertips tracing along the sharp edge of it as he looks at it with wonder. He meets John's smile with one of his own when he looks up, and for once, John thinks he's succeeded in something other than hijacking another captain's ship.

It's both a terrifying and thrilling feeling.

 

##########

 

John had told Dave that they'd be meeting with his cousin to discuss things regarding the ships to ransack, as well as the people to aid in the rebellion.

Dave didn't think he'd see his brother again so soon.

"You know each other?" is what John asks when Dave blurts out "bro?" in a soft voice that is entirely unlike him.

"We're brothers," Dirk says, stepping forward, with Dave stepping back in response. The taller blond's lips curl downwards at that, although he doesn't say anything regarding Dave's behavior. "You'd think that it would be obvious, Egbert."

"Well, now that I think about it," John says, mildly aware of the tension between the brothers as he looks back at Dave. "You do look sort of alike."

"I'm insulted that you wouldn't recognize the sheer handsomeness of our faces, John," Dave says, a smirk on his face, although the usual ease he has in speaking is gone. It's hard not to be affected, to act like nothing's wrong when his brother is _right there_ yet he's not, because he wouldn't have seen Dirk again in the first place if he hadn't followed John.

_Would Dirk even look for him, if he'd been informed of his brother's disappearance from Skaia?_

"Jake's in his chamber, you can go talk to him there," Dirk says with a nod to John. The brunet smiles in response, sending a salute in his way and a glance in Dave's direction, before taking off to talk with his cousin.

There is silence at first, with Dirk looking at Dave and Dave looking back. Their expressions are similar, lips set in a firm line as Dirk folds his arms over his chest and Dave keeps his hands hidden in his pockets.

Rose would have said something about how the difference of the positions of their hands is telling, but Dave doesn't want to think about her right now.

Not when she has more of his brother than he does.

"You could have contacted me at least once," Dave begins, watching as the firm line of Dirk's lips curl downwards into a frown. "I'm aware that you prefer contacting Rose, bro. But you could at least pretend to remember that I exist."

"I do remember."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" Dave asks, uncaring of the despair seeping into his tone.

There is another bout of silence, until Dirk unfolds his arms and reaches out to take Dave by the wrist. "Bro?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed as he regards the touch with a confused expression. His hand is warm on Dave's wrist, a comfort, and he hates it. It's far too much of a reminder that his brother is rarely there, enough to have made Dave forget how warm and calloused his hand is, how protected it makes him feel with just one touch.

(He's weak, always weak to his brother.)

"Come," Dirk says, squeezing lightly around Dave's wrist as he leads him to the lower deck. "We'll be better off talking somewhere private."

Dave nods absently, eyes focused on the hand still on his wrist as he is led away. He jolts into awareness once they both stop and the touch is gone, the only heat that is there to warm him being Dirk's gaze. It's discomfiting, to say the least.

"Talk, Dave."

"Don't tell me what to do," he snaps in response, earning him a raised brow from Dirk. Fuck, he hates this. He hates how easy it is for his brother to rile him up, just with this. "I hate you," he hisses, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue, but it is enough to garner more of a reaction from Dirk.

"You don't."

"I do, you asshole."

"You don't," Dirk repeats, stepping closer. Dave tries his hardest not to quiver, although it's telling when he squeezes the side of his trousers. "Dave."

"What the fuck kind of brother are you?" He says instead, reeling back when Dirk steps closer. "You're not supposed to play favorites, that's not how this works, bro! Did you even know that the shop exploded in Skaia? That I disappeared? Did you even fucking _care?_ "

The frown fades from Dirk's face, only to be replaced with something that looks like pity- and _god,_ Dave hates himself. This isn't how this was supposed to go. He's supposed to act like it doesn't matter, play it off coolly- but of course he can't do that.

"Of course I care, are you fucking insane?" Dirk retorts, reaching out, and Dave instantly flinches.

_Shit. Shit, what was wrong with him?_

"Dave," Dirk begins, voice softer now, and Dave is reminded of what it's like to be the wounded animal being offered protection.

It's far too fucking scary to just say yes. To accept it.

"I know that you're busy with your shit, I can understand that, but I don't know why you can make time for Rose but you can't do it for _me,_ " he says, voice cracking around the edges as he sucks in a breath. "I'm your brother, for fuck's sake! I'm supposed to _matter._ Shouldn't I?"

"Yes," Dirk says simply.

Dave doesn't understand why he can't control his tears when Dirk says it.

"I'm not a kid anymore," he says when Dirk pulls him closer, his body pliant to Dirk's touch as he is taken into an embrace. "I'm not a kid anymore," he repeats, voice cracking as he holds in a sob, his forehead pressing against Dirk's shoulder as he tries his hardest to stop crying.

"You're not," Dirk says, one hand running through Dave's blond locks, the other wrapped around the middle of Dave's back. "You're far from being a child, Dave."

 _But you still need me,_ Dirk doesn't say.

 _I do,_ Dave says through the hands clutching at his brother's back as though he were some lifeline.

"I stayed away to keep you safe," Dirk explains, voice slightly muffled as he presses a kiss to the top of Dave's head. "You know that."

It takes a few seconds before Dave says, "yeah, I know," his own voice dampened when he buries his face in the crook of Dirk's neck and shoulder.

It's those few seconds before Dave speaks that say more than can actually be said.

_You talked to Rose even when you were trying to keep her safe, bro._

\-----

 

It takes a while before Dave notices John avoiding him.

Every time he tries to have a conversation with the John alone, the brunet always seems to have something else planned. Even casual touches cause him to flinch, the barest of smiles makes him turn his head away, and they can barely stay in the same room without John feeling the need to leave.

It doesn't bother Dave at first. John must be pressured from being the leader to his crazy as fuck crew, and then there's the thing where has to consult with Vantas- who is a major pain in the ass, and a constant thorn in Dave's side when he has to accompany Egbert down to Skaia. (He has also become aware of the relationship the guy has with Terezi- which is somewhat surprising. It's a small world.)

Months pass before Dave starts to think that maybe he should talk to John about it, if he'd perhaps offended the brunet in some way.

But John only laughs when he talks of it, says that he was just busy, before slapping Dave on the arm lightly. Dave is surprised at the touch, sure, but he disregards it. John is a naturally touchy-feely dude, and it's not like it's hurting anyone.

Naturally, he doesn't notice how frequent the touches become.

He's tinkering with one of their cannons one day when John walks in, although his presence is barely there to Dave when he's focused on his work. The only reason he realizes that it takes him hours to finish it all is because of the night sky, already dark yet not with the stars sprinkled around the blue-violet canvas.

When he turns, John is still there. He raises an eyebrow, asks, "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know how much you love working with metal ware," John says, grinning. He stands up from his seat in favor of coming closer, viewing the newly made cannon with appreciation, before reaching out to squeeze Dave's arm. Dave cocks his head in bemusement at the gesture, but John laughs, which only confuses him more.

"Are you usually this affectionate with your crew?" Dave asks on another day as they're eating, the two of them being the only ones left at the table seeing as the others were busy with cleaning up their weapons.

"How do you mean?" John asks.

"You're rather prone to touching."

John smiles. "Well, I guess?"

 _It's a source of comfort,_ his inner Rose supplies for him. He nods in understanding, because there is nothing else to be said about it.

Dave is reminded of John before, the John who flinched at his touches and turned his head away whenever Dave so much as looked at him. In comparison to this John, as much as it unnerves him, he's...happier.

And so long as John's happy, it's fine. Because, god forbid he be too honest, he has actually grown to like the brunet.

 

\---------

 

_"In recent news, it has been confirmed that Dave Strider, the owner of the now destroyed Timekeeper's Shop, is one of the known rebel leaders. The State guards confirm that the explosion itself was a decoy, aiding in the escape of the criminal alongside a space pirate who has been affirmed to be John Egbert, captain of the ship Zillyhoo. The uprising of the rebel movement has grown with this act of mutiny, which adds to the reminder that the Skaians must be careful at all times, as certain sections of Skaia have certain numbers of rebel groups in their midst. The State president reminds us to be cautious in these times of trouble, and to be prepared for whatever it is that may come."_

\--------

 

It is John who receives the message first, as he is nearer to Karkat's location than Jake is.

"Dave," John begins, hesitation latent in his voice, which immediately grabs Dave's attention.

"What is it?" He asks, rising from his seat and moving away from his work to stand beside John, squinting his eyes at the telegram in the brunet's hands. John doesn't say anything, only raising his hand to let him see the telegram better.

A few minutes have passed before he notices the steady grip on his elbow keeping him upright. John's face is wrought with worry, his blue eyes taking in Dave's face, pale with shock and dismay.

_Rose has been compromised._

Dave may have expressed jealousy towards her excessive contact with their brother, but that didn't mean that he wanted her hurt. She is still his sister, and he loves her as anyone would towards family.

_He has never told her as much._

When John takes their ship to her location, he immediately takes her up in his arms when she boards, holding her as though she is something precious- because _she is._ No one questions it, no one wonders who she is, because it's easy enough to tell just from the relieved smiles on their faces.

"You're fucking crazy, Rose," he says, voice quivering with emotion as he holds her tight. She only smiles, words unneeded as she holds him back. No one has the heart to separate them for a while, although it's not much of a problem when they separate on their own later on.

Justifiably enough, it comes as a shock to Dave when, once they are done sharing a moment of sentimentality, Rose lets herself be enveloped in Kanaya's embrace, easily submitting to the kiss pressed onto her lips as though it is something they'd already been accustomed to.

"Rose?" He asks once they part, his tone sounding wounded enough on its own without having the aid of his facial expressions.

There is an apology woven neatly with her words when she says, "Kanaya and I have been together for a while, Dave." He shoots a look at John in surprise at that, silently asking him if he knew, to which the brunet nods.

He doesn't bother to say anything when he leaves. (Words would have failed him, either way.)

 

\------

 

It takes days before Dave drops the cold shoulder act.

It's not like he could've held a grudge for that long anyway, considering how she never actually had the time to tell him about her relationship with Kanaya.

"It's not because they're both women, is it?" John had asked at one point, subtly (but not subtle enough) wringing his hands as he regarded Dave with an inquisitive look. "I'm aware of certain compunctions people have regarding it, especially when the State calls homosexuality a...crime, of sorts."

"What?" He'd asked, looking at John with bemusement, before shaking his head as an answer. "No, of course not. God knows that the State isn't always right. People have the right to love who they want to love, regardless of the gender. I just," he paused, chewing on his lower lip, “I felt betrayed, that I didn’t know. But she has the right to love whoever, same as anyone else.”

John paused then, looking as though he were contemplating Dave's words, before he smiled. "I concur on that point."

Dave could only smile, idly wondering what had caused John to worry about it in the first place.

 

\-------

 

 

"She could have given out information, you understand," is what Dave hears when he comes up from the lower deck. "It would not be surprising. The State is more than willing to enforce violent methods to gain answers, especially when they've discovered that one of their own have turned on them."

"That's impossible," Roxy says from Jake's side, her eyes glassy and her face pale. "Jane wouldn't do that to us."

"Do what?" He asks.

All eyes turn to look at him in surprise, the reactions varying once they realize that it's him. There are gazes turned to the ground, eyes turned away, frowns etching themselves onto their faces; it reminds Dave of the horrible feeling of being left out.

"What happened?" He asks again, irritation clear from the clenching of his fists.

No one says anything as he is handed a telegram by John.

It's like a paper cut, a detached portion of his mind muses as he stares at the message. _Jane is dead_ , it says. Dirk's hand is firm on his shoulder as his hands start to quiver, the sensation of his fingers lost on him as Roxy gives in to her tears and holds onto him as though he were some sort of lifeline.

"She would not betray us," Dirk says, turning his firm gaze in Jake's direction. The elder brunet turns his eyes away in response to that, the guilt written on the downturned curl of his lips.

 

\----

 

_"She did not give anything away," Jade affirms in a telegram. "She did not tell of you, nor has she revealed my place in this. We are safe for now."_

 

\----

 

Their moment of safety doesn't last long.

_"Peixes is gone, Eridan was taken in by the other Peixes' crew."_

That was the first.

_"There are too many fucking casualties on Meenah's side, and if you assholes add to that I'm not even going to bother stopping Kar when he takes your corpses and grinds your bones into powder."_

_"Who are they?" Jake ventures to ask._

_"Horuss, Mituna, Kurloz, and Meulin."_

_Kurloz and Meulin died in each others' arms, Sollux doesn't say._

That was the second.

Dave had hoped to whatever god was out there that there wouldn't be a third, but it doesn't last. Of course they'd be ambushed, _of course_ they'd be found, and of- _fucking_ -course there'd be casualties. It doesn't even matter that Jake is helping them out at that point.

Tavros is the first to fall, when a guard stabs him in the back.

Had Dave been a sentimental person, he would have screamed. He would have cried. But he feels numb when he slices off the guard's head, the blood splattering on his clothes and his cheek as he makes it a clean swipe. He stabs the next one to come after him, dodges the second that tries to stab him through the chest before taking him down with a thrust and twist of his sword. He doesn't say anything, doesn't even need to look up when Aradia manages to catch a guard using her whip with Nepeta scratching him up until his face is unrecognizable.

It's the first time that he sees Gamzee awake and sober, his eyes glinting with rage as he clubs two guards to death. Dave is aware enough to notice how Gamzee never leaves his place by Tavros' body, how it's almost like he's keeping watch over the mohawked teen when he takes out anyone else who dares come near.

He doesn't think to watch his brother, not when he's already capable of handling things on his own.

It's only when he's heard the yell and the loud whirring of a chainsaw that he turns to look at Dirk. His brother, standing in front of Rose's bleeding body. He barely has the time to feel the loss when he looks up and sees Kanaya, tears streaking her cheeks as she grabs a rope and swings her way onto the other ship, her chainsaw at the ready as she cuts through the man who had felled his twin. 

It doesn't take long before there is nothing left to fight against, only mangled pieces of bodies remaining on the deck as the buzz of Kanaya's weapon dies down.

_Rose had stood, her back to Dirk's as she took out the guards. She was fine with her needles, she was fucking fine, but someone had come for Dirk just as soon as he had his sword locked with another's._

_She thwarted the attempt._

_Her needles had only managed stabbing out the man's eyes as she threw them, but it didn't matter._

_She was stabbed. She was gone._

Nobody tries to take Kanaya away from Rose. Not even Dave, even though he feels the need to have her to himself as well. He never apologized, not once after all the times that he's spoken against her. He wants to say so much, wants to beg her to stay, wants to tell her that he's sorry, that he loves her even when she has so much of what he can't have. She was _his,_ in the end. Dirk had spoken to her, but she always came to him, always smiled for him, because he was her twin, her brother, _hers._

Even John can't bring himself to talk to Dave after he locks himself into one of the chambers. Not even Dirk, not with the guilt weighing heavily on his chest.

This isn't the last of the battle, and no way in hell is Dave going to let this be the end of Rose.

 

\-----

 

It takes three weeks before the crew comes back to some semblance of normal.

"You're a new face," Dave comments when he sees the blonde stepping onto their ship, not bothering to threaten her with his sword when he had seen John conversing with her.

"Vriska," she says, smiling as she holds out a hand to him.

_"The explosion in the State building has caused many casualties, taking the lives of many lawmakers and destroying large amounts of data regarding laws to be implemented. The State police says that the culprit has been named as one of the workers of the State, a certain Vriska Serket..."_

He smirks back, noting the flash of teeth in her grin as he takes her hand in his, shaking it. "Glad to have you on our crew, Vriska."

Her grin widens enough to let him see how sharp her teeth are. He doesn't falter. "It's my pleasure, Strider."

 

\----

 

"We've got eight done in," Meenah says, thumb flicking idly at her trident as she shoots a glare in Jake and John's directions. "I'm not making any alliances with anemone if it means I'm siding with the losers, you get me?" She snarls, earning a nod from both captains. "Any assurances you got that'll convince me to join this club of yours?"

"We've got eight dead, all in all," Dirk repeats, earning a raised eyebrow the brunette captain. "I think it's safe to say that it'd be better off working together. I've already written out a plan with the help of the crew and an inside informant on how to take out the State building." He smirks. "Think you can find a better offer anywhere else, Peixes?"

"You've got a mouth made for confincing, Strider," she says, smirking back as she looks back at her crew. Their faces are weary, but she sees no desire to give up in any of their eyes. They're too strong for that, and so is she. So are all of them, really. She holds out a hand, Dirk making to shake hers, before she curls her hand into a fist and thumps it against his palm. "You've got yourself a deal."

There's really no other choice, in the end.

He smiles wryly. "A pleasure doing business with you, then."

 

\-----

 

They're waiting for Jade's signal when John drops the bomb on Dave.

The blond has barely gotten his wits back when he blinks at John, the brunet smiling with all the resignation of a captain being sent off to his death. His lips are tingling still with warmth even when the brunet has pulled away, his blue eyes dimmer than they usually are as he sits by the edge of Dave's bed.

"Take it as a...promise, of sorts. When we get back," John says, laughing when the flabbergasted look has yet to leave Dave's face.

Dave swallows, before nodding. He doesn't say anything when John reaches out to twine their fingers, only squeezing back as a sign of comfort and agreement.

"When we come back," he iterates after a moment of stillness, smiling when he notices the grin on John's face.

 

\----

 

 _It's time,_ Jade telegraphs just as night falls.

It's all smooth movement when the captains return to their respective ships, immediately taking the wheel as they set their sights north-wise.

John grins with his crew, his heart a mess of erratic rhythm when he feels Dave's hand brushing against his.

_"Showtime."_


End file.
